A Narn, a Centauri, and a Minbari walk into a bar
by baja-king
Summary: A curious trio and a bad bar joke. One shot. (Rated T because hey, it's a bar.).


_A Narn, a Centauri, and a Minbari walk into a bar._

 _The Narn says, "I'd like your strongest smelling whiskey – potent enough to overpower the stench of the Centauri Republic!"_

 _The Centauri said, "Bartender – a bottle of your finest champagne to toast the downfall of the Narn Regime!"_

 _The Minbari said, "A glass of water, please."_

 _The bartender pours the drinks and says, "I don't get the joke."_

 _The Narn rolls his eyes and says, "No one does. That's because the Minbari HAVE no sense of humor."_

#B5#B5#B5#

Garibaldi had to see it for himself. He disliked bars. The temptation to drink proved strong. He reminded himself that he was conducting official business. He calmly sat at the bar drinking his soda. The man beside him slowly nursed a Scotch, and the aroma tantalized the chief. Maybe just one – no, Michael, that's a _bad_ idea and you know it.

Then he saw the anticipated players. Na'Toth, Vir, and Lennier entered and sat at a table in the corner. The three diplomatic attachés seemed unlikely to convene without permission from their superiors. Garibaldi learned that the three met in such a manner the past several nights. It was not his intent to interfere, but rather, keep an eye on things.

There were no reports of hostilities. Garibaldi refused to lower his guard. War between the Narn and Centauri seemed imminent. G'Kar and Mollari spared no words. On multiple occasions, security broke up physical fights between the two ambassadors. Yet their underlings appeared to be having polite conversation.

"I see you heard about it too," said Sheridan as he sat at the bar. "Ginger ale, please."

The bartender sighed, "What is this? Minbari night?"

Garibaldi laughed, "Yeah, it must be."

Sheridan said, "They seem to be acting civil."

Garibaldi said, "It just doesn't make any sense. What are they doing here?"

Sheridan said, "Hard to say. Maybe they're just talking about the things the ambassadors can't."

"Don't go all Vorlon on me," said Garibaldi. "Should we go over there?"

Sheridan thought briefly and said, "Nah. So far, it seems very mutual."

The bartender said, "Wait until Na'Toth has her second drink."

Sheridan did not appreciate the seemingly innocuous bartender chiming in on the conversation. Then he reconsidered. If the bartender anticipated trouble, perhaps giving a heads up to the station commander and the security chief was prudent. It was unusual for the two men to sit together at a bar.

The man on the other side of Garibaldi slurred, "Baldy always stops it."

Garibaldi said, "Sheesh! Get a breath mint!"

If one expected trouble on Babylon 5, he or she simply had to wait five or ten minutes. The quiet conversation in the corner suddenly erupted with Na'Toth drawing her K'tok, Vir drawing a dagger, and Lennier drawing his Denn'Bok. The three stared icily at each other; with Na'Toth and Vir showing bloodthirst while Lennier demonstrating determination.

"Time to butt in," Garibaldi casually said.

Sheridan took the lead, patrons clearing a path. Someone was taking bets on whether or not the three would actually engage in a fight this time. He stopped close enough to intervene but far enough away to prevent receiving an accidental blow.

Sheridan asked, "Is everything alright?"

Lennier calmly said, "All is well, Captain."

Sheridan said, "I can see that. Let me buy you a drink." Na'Toth growled, causing Vir to step back slightly. Sheridan continued, "I see. Very well. Go home."

Vir asked, "Same time tomorrow?"

"Agreed," said Lennier as he lowered his pike.

Na'Toth drew her sword against the palm of her hand and said, "Very well." Once blood spilt onto the blade, she sheathed the sword. Vir placed his knife in its hilt.

Sheridan watched as the three attachés exited the bar. Garibaldi took his cue and followed to ensure the hostilities really had subsided. Sheridan returned to the bar. His mind raced. What was that all about anyway? It seemed a peculiar ritual.

The bartender asked, "Another ginger ale?"

Sheridan said, "Make it a double – no, wait. Make it a triple. And replace the ginger ale with Scotch."

"That's the spirit," said the bartender.


End file.
